Clyde Carson, Slow Down: We need your help!
-
I can comment on it
-
I know the meaning
-
I can review it
-
I can translate it
Clyde Carson does not wait for opportunity; he creates it. The 25 year-old rapper-cum-entrepreneur is best known as the front man of The Team, a locally-successful rap group that lit up switchboards with their major radio hit in 2004 “It’s Gettin’ Hot.” Musical talent aside, he is also the mastermind of the nation’s fastest-growing energy drink, Hyphy Juice, and Partner of Moe Doe Records. Success at such a young age fared no small coincidence Read Full BioClyde Carson does not wait for opportunity; he creates it. The 25 year-old rapper-cum-entrepreneur is best known as the front man of The Team, a locally-successful rap group that lit up switchboards with their major radio hit in 2004 “It’s Gettin’ Hot.” Musical talent aside, he is also the mastermind of the nation’s fastest-growing energy drink, Hyphy Juice, and Partner of Moe Doe Records. Success at such a young age fared no small coincidence, as Carson set out to prove early on in his career that he was not content with being just an artist.
“My main goal was to make music with an Oakland element to it, but on a national level,” Carson explains about his objective in the music industry. Raised in the era of Mob Music in the Bay Area, he pioneered the resurgence of party music in a time when content was all about violence. With a combination of uncanny timing and relentless work ethic, Carson became one of the biggest purveyors of the Bay Area’s Hyphy Movement that brought his hometown back into the spotlight after nearly a decade of neglect from national attention.
“My main goal was to make music with an Oakland element to it, but on a national level,” Carson explains about his objective in the music industry. Raised in the era of Mob Music in the Bay Area, he pioneered the resurgence of party music in a time when content was all about violence. With a combination of uncanny timing and relentless work ethic, Carson became one of the biggest purveyors of the Bay Area’s Hyphy Movement that brought his hometown back into the spotlight after nearly a decade of neglect from national attention.
More Genres
No Artists Found
More Artists
Load All
No Albums Found
More Albums
Load All
No Tracks Found
Genre not found
Artist not found
Album not found
Search results not found
Song not found
Slow Down
by Clyde Carson
I tell em
Slow down, you know you can't catch me
I move too fast on the gas, don't chase me
Slow down, slow down
I tell em
Slow down, you know you can't catch me
I move too fast on the gas, don't chase me
Slow down, slow down
(I tell 'em)
Ay, I'm on the case gettin' sideways
Dolla fo' five on the highway
You know a nigga state to state
On a dolo mission I got a date with the cake
Wide awoke, 3 A.M
Prolly touch down when the sun come in
Ay, when them guards hit the gate I be tired as fuck after that 8-hour race
I come from the land where we swing our cars
Figure 8 Benz concrete leave marks
Call it paid, super-charged
Back to back race the Benz with the four door Porsche
I'm tearin' up tires in this luxury
Hella smoke says she wanna fuck with me
Money on my mind ain't nothin' for free
Tryna keep up with me but it's nothin' to me
I tell em
Slow down, you know you can't catch me
I move too fast on the gas, don't chase me
Slow down, slow down
(I tell 'em)
Slow down, you know you can't catch me
Hype without fugitive, Snipes Wesley
Fuzz get on me tried to test me arrest me
Wet than a motha fucka whip like a jet ski
Ride like Presley, pills like Graceland
They wanna shit me the ready and off to reception
Nah, ain't tryna see the state pen
I'm black-scaled out in my Ray-Bans
Diamond-certified, I ain't neva lied
Ain't had L's since Pac died
Ridin' through the biters, couple bundles talkin' bout sliders
Run from the labours, mind's still swift
FedEx movement all on the bitch
Audi with the stash box, Cazzy too swift
No frontin' push a button give a nigga that, gift
I tell em
Slow down, you know you can't catch me
I move too fast on the gas, don't chase me
Slow down, slow down
I'm Jeff Gordon in his heyday
Ridin' like Tony Stewart smashin' through a two-way
Doin' bout a hundred kinda burnin' up the Louie
Louie, Louie 13th motha fucka yeah Louie
D.U.I. drivin black henny on my lap
Pedal to the flo' with a 808 clap
Money motivated doin' sprints when I'm chasin'
And it gotta be a hemi I don't normally do the basic
Six-cylinder, r-really bruh? Slow it down, keep up
And I'm killin' ya, hope I'm not offendin' ya
See you at the finish line, leavin' em
Burn rubba, bu-burn rubba
This is how we do it when I'm dippin' on a corna
Burn rubba, bu-burn rubba
This is how we do it in Northern California
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management
Written by: DONALD DEGRATE, DONALD EARLE DE GRATE, RAYMOND E JONES, ROBERT JONES, TIM KELLEY, BOB HOPE ROBINSON, BOBBY MARCEL WILSON
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
by Clyde Carson
I tell em
Slow down, you know you can't catch me
I move too fast on the gas, don't chase me
Slow down, slow down
I tell em
Slow down, you know you can't catch me
I move too fast on the gas, don't chase me
Slow down, slow down
(I tell 'em)
Ay, I'm on the case gettin' sideways
Dolla fo' five on the highway
You know a nigga state to state
On a dolo mission I got a date with the cake
Wide awoke, 3 A.M
Prolly touch down when the sun come in
Ay, when them guards hit the gate I be tired as fuck after that 8-hour race
I come from the land where we swing our cars
Figure 8 Benz concrete leave marks
Call it paid, super-charged
Back to back race the Benz with the four door Porsche
I'm tearin' up tires in this luxury
Hella smoke says she wanna fuck with me
Money on my mind ain't nothin' for free
Tryna keep up with me but it's nothin' to me
I tell em
Slow down, you know you can't catch me
I move too fast on the gas, don't chase me
Slow down, slow down
(I tell 'em)
Slow down, you know you can't catch me
Hype without fugitive, Snipes Wesley
Fuzz get on me tried to test me arrest me
Wet than a motha fucka whip like a jet ski
Ride like Presley, pills like Graceland
They wanna shit me the ready and off to reception
Nah, ain't tryna see the state pen
I'm black-scaled out in my Ray-Bans
Diamond-certified, I ain't neva lied
Ain't had L's since Pac died
Ridin' through the biters, couple bundles talkin' bout sliders
Run from the labours, mind's still swift
FedEx movement all on the bitch
Audi with the stash box, Cazzy too swift
No frontin' push a button give a nigga that, gift
I tell em
Slow down, you know you can't catch me
I move too fast on the gas, don't chase me
Slow down, slow down
I'm Jeff Gordon in his heyday
Ridin' like Tony Stewart smashin' through a two-way
Doin' bout a hundred kinda burnin' up the Louie
Louie, Louie 13th motha fucka yeah Louie
D.U.I. drivin black henny on my lap
Pedal to the flo' with a 808 clap
Money motivated doin' sprints when I'm chasin'
And it gotta be a hemi I don't normally do the basic
Six-cylinder, r-really bruh? Slow it down, keep up
And I'm killin' ya, hope I'm not offendin' ya
See you at the finish line, leavin' em
Burn rubba, bu-burn rubba
This is how we do it when I'm dippin' on a corna
Burn rubba, bu-burn rubba
This is how we do it in Northern California
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management
Written by: DONALD DEGRATE, DONALD EARLE DE GRATE, RAYMOND E JONES, ROBERT JONES, TIM KELLEY, BOB HOPE ROBINSON, BOBBY MARCEL WILSON
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
To comment on specific lyrics, highlight them
SIGN UP
-or-